Beeeeeeeppppppp, then death
by harmony551
Summary: Allot of people hated hospitals, for no reason at all. Perhaps it was because it was a place of death, a too mechanical and systematic and clean place. Peter also hated hospitals. And how could he not? It was the place where his mother had died, announced by a mechanical heart monitor's: Beeeeeeeeeppppp. So Peter hated hospitals.
1. Chapter 1

Allot of people hated hospitals, for no reason at all. Perhaps it was because it was a place of death, a too mechanical and systematic and clean place.

Peter also hated hospitals. And how could he not? It was the last real location he was on Terra, where he had seen his family.

Where he had failed his mom. Left his grandfather.

Run.

But worst of all, where his mom had died. Her passing announced through a heartless _Beeeeeeeeeeeeeepp_ of a heart monitor. He HATED that sound the most.

But hey, it wasn't like he went in hospitals allot, right? WRONG.

Of course, being damn guardians of the damn galaxy meant visits to hospitals, because hey, it wasn't the smoothest job in the world.

This time, though, Peter wasn't a patient in the hospital, and neither were his other friends.

As part of a mission assigned from the Nova Corps they just _had_ to go. Previously they had been helping clean the planet of after an earth quake had hit. And it was pretty severe. Houses lay in pile of wood, stone, old furniture and even dead bodies. Fires had started out from ships, and gas stations. People were missing.

So the Nova Corps had asked them to help clean up

" _Seriously we aint magicians who wave their goddamn wands and fix everything!" Rocket had growled._

" _No we are beings who fix problems with dance offs and 12% of a plan, right mister 12%?" Gamora had smirked turning from the Pilot's chair._

" _Hey, it still worked" Peter said waggling his eyebrows from his spot on the floor._

 _Drax then had looked up from his knife sharpening. "Are you proposing, friend Quill, that we clean up through a so called "DANCE OFF"? And may I inquire, against whom?"_

 _Quill's brow had furrowed. "Uh, not what I meant buddy"_

 _Gamora had sighed. "We are forgetting the real problem which-"_

" _-is we were invited to bloody clean up! We're known for blowing things up and their asking us to play nursemaid with the stupid planet!? THE HELL!? I aint picking up a broom and sweepin' and sparklin' the city streets!" Rocket practically howled while Gamora gave her trademark Assassin glare._

" _So you suggestin' we make things worse by blowing things up? Wonderful! A trigger happy raccoon is entering an earthquake zone!" Quill threw his hands up in the air._

 _That had been enough to anger his team. Gamora had started yelling the need to "address the real problem", while Rocket growled curse at the Nova corps ("She doesn't have a clean-up squad so she calls up people who love blowing things up!?"), and Drax inquired about Peter's sarcasm. Peter looked at young Groot for guidance who grinned widely clearly enjoying the show._

But on top of that, the Nova Corps then requested at least two guardians to check up on the main hospital while the rest went to report to the Nova Corps and get their payment. No one on the team ever having good experiences with hospitals (pff as if anyone would admit that to their teammates), had resulted in yet another argument:

" _I aint going. First sweepin' now this, nuh uh." Rocket had obviously started the argument._

 _Gamora looked uncertain for several seconds, biting the inside of her cheek as they leant against the Milano's side after they had finished hours of helping. She then looked at Drax who gave a resolute nod. She sighed and spoke:_

" _Actually we have decided to take initiative (Peter had snorted earning him a deadly glare), and point out Rocket and Peter are the worst candidates to go to Nova Corps as last time Rocket threatened to blow off half the planet as he was not pleased with our payment ("Not half….only a quarter" Rocket practically whined) and Peter forgot about the mission report as he had gone down to the Cafeteria and indulged in half of the desert there."_

" _OH MY GOD! That was one time. " Peter threw his arms up in exasperation then suddenly looked sheepish "and I indulged from three quarters of the desert there."_

 _Rocket face palmed._

 _Drax nodded. "We have made the best point, d'you have a point against us?"_

 _Silence._

 _Gamora grinned. "You two are going to the hospital then._

" _Fine." Peter huffed. "And I'm eating all of the desert next time as a form of revenge."_

 _While Drax shook his head fondly Rocket held a hand up. "We get the ship then, you guys can just take the Nova Corps ships there sendin' every hour for the victim's supplies. Got it.?"  
_

_Gamora and Drax nodded, while Groot practically crooned, waving at Rocket, like a kid would do to a parent before school. Once the three had walked away, Peter fist pumped. "Yes! We get my baby!"_

 _Rocket rolled his eyes. He had forgotten he would be stuck with an idiot._

 _They headed towards the hospital bickering over the Milano, Peter's baby._

So here they were taking in account of the patients who were victims of the quake. His teammate was babbling non-stop, first over each and every name they were noting down _"seriously Rocket, my man, what sort of mom names there kid: Pineapple?!"_ all the way to the colour of the bed sheets _"I mean hypothetically speaking it could damage the eyes, that colour, they should have gone for a few tones darker, I want to tell them, should I tell them bud?"_

While Rocket loudly complained and constantly told Peter to " _just shut up before I tell you my opinion", h_ e was silently grateful for the noise. It helped him take his mind off the slight resemblance some rooms in the building had to Halfworld.

Little did Rocket know, was that Peter was babbling non-stop to take his mind off his ever growing fear and nervousness. Even on the other end of the galaxy, far off from Terra, hospital rooms still looked the same! Some looked exactly like his _mother's room. So, h_ e talked more. He talked faster.

Sometime in between, Rocket had gone down a separate hall to take a faster account. When he had come back Peter was barely half way his list.

 _Go figure, Idiot_

But Rocket didn't have the chance to be mad. As he found Peter in an injured ten years old boy's room. Peter's eyes were uncharacteristically soft, and voice, a different tone of cheerful, yet… soothing. So Rocket stood by the door way listening.

"So you're a guardian of the galaxy…as in Star-Lord!?" The kid squealed.

"Sure thing kiddo."

"It must be SO cool being a Hero! (At that Peter gave a sheepish sounding laugh)" The kid suddenly quieted. "I wish I could be one."

"Hey," Peter's voice drifted gently. "You told me you saved your sister, right?" A beat, then: "That makes you a guardian kiddo, a pretty darn good hero if you ask me. Maybe you can teach me!"

"Id love to!" Came the kid's proud reply. Then the two were talking of other things as they're listener zoned out.

Rocket raised an eyebrow. Honestly, he had expected Peter to brag his tittle.

He walked in just as Peter activated his mask causing the boy to clap and cheer.

"Hey Quill, hi there kiddo." Rocket smiled gruffly at the kid.

Peter deactivated his mask grinning like an idiot, eyes practically sparkling with happiness.

 _I'll shoot the idiot later._ Rocket thought

The kid leaned over the bed as Peter suddenly chastened him and steadied him. "You're Rocket Raccoon." The kid breathed.

Rocket paused, feeling joy and fondness sweep over him at being recognized as a _hero. He was god damned hero, a saviour and this kid LOOKED UP TO HIM!_

He smiled. "That's me, nice job saving your sister, I heard." The kid practically beamed.

Rocket turned to Quill "We gotta go, c'mon Peter." Peter nodded grabbed his paper with the names and followed Rocket after waving eagerly to the kid.

Outside, Rocket glared at Quill and shook his head, trying, forcing, but couldn't be mad at his friend.

"Idiot" Rocket muttered.

"Annoying" Peter quipped back as they walked down the hall, Peter ticking another name off.

After 5 minutes, they stopped in the middle of the hallway, Peter nodded looking pleased. "Done buddy. That was the last name. Only three people missing. Not bad."

Rocket rolled his eyes, relieved. "Good, cuz my damn ears are bleedin' from your nonstop talkin'!"

Peter grinned evilly as they walked back towards the main desk. "I have a lot more where that came from! I mean look at these colours of the walls! There-"

 _Beeeeeeeeeeeppp_

Peter stopped, Rocket bumping into him sputtering "What the hell Peter!"

But Peter didn't hear. He was staring at the room where the Beep had come from. He could hear family members sobbing over a recently lost loved one, and deep down he felt an undetached sorrow for them.

That sound echoed in his mind:

 _Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeppp_

" _Peter, take my hand…Please."_ Suddenly the dead alien on that bed in the room across was his mother, as she went limp, and Peter was eight years old.

Somewhere far away, Rocket's voice drifted "What the hell! This aint funny, yer in the middle of a hall, just standing!"

 _Beeeeeeeeeeeppp._

Peter was scared.

 _Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeppp_

His mother was dying, and he couldn't do anything. No one cared.

 _Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeppp_

Nothing cared.

 _Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeppp_

Not even the heart monitor.

 _Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeppp_

Heck, its job was to detect death. Or to Peter at least.

 _Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeppp_

Peter squeezed his eyes shut, his fisted hands pressing against his ears, as the paper of names fluttered down on an angry and now somewhat concerned Rocket.

 _Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeppp_

Somehow, Peter didn't run away. Maybe it was Rocket's yells in the dark hospital hallway, or Rocket pulling at his shoe laces, clawing at him, simply grounding him to reality.

So Peter didn't run. Not this time.

 _Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeppp_

Peter speed walked away, leaving a Confused Rocket with a crumpled paper in hand.


	2. Chapter 2

Rocket stared at the paper that Peter had dramatically dropped to the ground, in his hasty exit.

He stared at the spot where Peter had been just a minute ago pressing his hands up against his ears.

 _Oooo-kaayyy…..?_

What had happened?

The raccoon realized he was still standing in the hallway with his jaw hanging as though it was unscrewed (which could technically happen seeing as they were "modified components of his being").

So he snapped it shut.

Rubbing his ears, Rocket bent down, picked up the paper and slumped against the hallway wall trying to decipher what the hell was going on. The _one_ time Groot was needed for thinking rather than a fight was the _one_ time he was away.

Rocket closed his eyes. He knew he should be going after his friend but there was something worrying about treading uncommon ground with peter. Especially with such a happy-go-lucky kind of guy.

 **B** ut then again, maybe Peter was playing a prank, trying to agitate him as usual.

 _Yeah, that's it_.

So why did Rocket feel so tense then? Why did he feel so award?

 _Just find out you idiot, and get out of this stupid hospital while you're at it._

So rocket did just that.

When Rocket dropped off the list of names at the main desk he immediately left the bright, white building. The second He stepped out into the open, Rocket felt himself let out air he hadn't even realized he was holding.

Deciding that he'd find Peter on the way to the ship he set out. On the way Rocket noted how much better the city looked, with some of the rubble piled away (thanks to Drax, Gamora and Groot), and the half burnt down houses absent (Rocket had kindly blown them up). But he still found himself taking an isolated route, subconsciously nervous at being recognized as a _Hero_. _But,_ He told himself it was because Peter would have taken that route.

When the raccoon reached the ship in the clearing, he immediately spotted Peter, "glorified" Red jacket and all slumped against the hull.

 _Okay_ he thought. _Act normal, it was probably a prank. Quill doesn't do awkward heart to heart moments and neither do I._

So rolling his shoulder high, putting an easy grin (that hopefully didn't look like a grimace) Rocket walked over to Peter.

"There you are Ranger rick. Really, I _need_ that desert at the Nova corps headquarters. They have a weekly special, come on!" Peter said grinning as he got up, and gesturing to the ship.

 _Thank god._ Rocket thought, though rather confused at the fact if he should mention the assumed prank or not. Something was off.

He agreed offhandedly muttering about how anxious he was to see Groot as he went up, Peter climbing the ship ahead of him.

Once on, Peter looked away fidgeting with his ever present Walkman. "Uh yeah, I'll take controls, you just, uh do your thing." And he was gone

 _Ooohhhhh_

So that's what was off. He was avoiding eye contact and not himself.

Something, some sort of memory trigger must have occurred at the hospital. Rocket felt a surge of pride for himself and his amazing ability to decipher human emotions.

 _I'm a genius, a damn genius._

But the excitement quickly faded away into awkwardness. He hated anything that had to do with dramatized emotion. Really he'd just leave it to Groot. But now Groot wasn't here and it just didn't feel right to not talk about what had happened in the Hospital. Because whatever had occurred was not a prank. Rocket wouldn't be able to look Quill in the eye if he left the terran to mentally torture himself.

 _Just talk to him and get this over with._

Grabbing a gun he'd been working on, Rocket went over and sat down in the Co-pilot chair beside Peter.

Oddly enough the human didn't even notice, just sat there, leaning back against the chair, arms folded across his chest, staring out into the black void of space. Lost in thought.

Rocket stared out the window as well, thinking of the hospital, and the ever so similar Halfworld. The torture he had gone through there. With the gleaming instruments. Mad scientists. His breath hitched and he was slipping from reality.

Trying, but couldn't, Rocket grabbed onto anything to ground him to the real world. His claws dug into the chair that oddly felt like an operation table. Out of nowhere a man appeared before him with a mask on, only hardened eyes and creased forehead visible. Eyes wide, blood shot it glared down at rocket for a good moment before turning around.

 _Good,_ Rocket thought _I can get away._

But when he made to get up from the table, the skin of his front and back paws stretched against a cord.

A cord, tying him down.

He was helpless.

 _Oh, God._

The _subject_ tried, but couldn't wiggle his paws out, skin being pulled more.

Without thinking Rocket let out a animalistic growl

"Let me out or you'll regret you lived!"

At this the scientist turned around a frown crinkling his face. He brandished several sharp metal instruments that stood out to Rocket against the sterile white walls.

He knew what was next.

The pain. The helplessness.

 _The begging._

 _Nononononono oh god please NO!_

NO! "stop! Please! GET LOST! Go away! Go!" He screeched helplessly, his voice cracking as he twisted around, front arching in vain

His muscles trembled but it was useless.

Tears burned his eyes.

He was hyperventilating.

The world was blurring.

Through his blurred vision a figure stepped forward arms raised and Rocket did the best thing he could do. Claws extended, snarl contorting his features, Rocket slashed. It didn't even occur to him that he had wrenched himself free to slash at his captor.

Said captive had gracelessly fallen to the floor with a loud CRASH.

Suddenly Rocket's vision cleared and he realized he was on the Milano, on all fours in the Co-pilot chair. His lips were pulled back in an angry snarl.

Rocket blinked, started and looked on the floor in front of him where Peter was getting up one hand rubbing his Temple. He winced.

 _Woops._

Peter, on the other hand looked really guilty and…was that concern?

"Uh, Rocket? You-?"

"I'm fine Peter. Just a dream." With that the trembling racoon jumped off and turned to walk away.

Until Peter grabbed his shoulder with gentle firmness. Rocket stopped, staring at the entrance in front of him. Escape. If Peter would back off he could escape.

The humanoid swung around glaring viciously and raised his claws at his foe.

To his surprise Peter just grabbed Rocket by both shoulders with surprising gentleness.

That's when Rocket noticed the blood trickling down his temple from a three line scratch, and into his hairline.

Sickened Rocket allowed his arms to flop down staring at the injury. How was everything so messed up?

"Did-"Rocket swallowed and continued in a whisper, "Did I _do_ that?"

Peter gently retracted his hands and shook his head. "No. No I- uh tripped and uh slammed my head on the control panel."

 _Yes, three times repeatedly._ Rocket thought bitterly. Really, Peter was a terrible, rash liar.

"You okay?" The half terran asked concern reflecting his features.

Rocket nodded. A pause then Peter continued:

"C'mon, let's go the rec room. We'll talk there. Kay?" Rocket nodded.

He was mildly aware that Peter was using that same Gentle, soothing tone he had used on the ten year kid in the hospital. For some reason it was truly comforting and the Raccoon found himself climbing Peter's shouter, seeking more comfort.

The man started, surprised then walked into the rec room. Rocket climbed off and slumped against the sofa with a sigh. He was still shaking from the horrifying dream.

The silence indicated Peter was waiting.

"Just a dream! Okay Quill!" Really it was frustrating! Why was the man so insistent!? Was he planning to use this as blackmail in the future?

He glared at Peter who stared at floor pursing his lips. "Look Rocket, I can take a guess. You were upset about the hospital weren't you?" The terran's eyes bore into his.

One thing Rocket would give Terrans was the intensity of their gaze.

"What! No! I have no idea-"

"Rocket. _Come on."_

"Fine, Damn you." The raccoon sighed rubbing his ears and looking down. It was hard not to give into Peter's questioning. It was almost like falling into Groot's questioning. _Almost._

"I- just, god, look the hospital triggered some memories about Halfworld. Alright? The hospital so similar." At this Rocket shuddered, but then blinked when a glass of water was placed on the center table in front of him. He'd heard about people giving their friends, their _family_ a glass of water to help calm and comfort the other person. It was seen as act of kindness and _comfort._

Rocket stared at it as thought the glass was a pile of units.

"I know what you mean." Peter interrupted his thoughts as though he had done nothing.

Suddenly Rocket remembered the real purpose why he had come into the cockpit earlier.

Grabbing the glass and sipping it Rocket narrowed his eyes, "Is that what happened at the hospital then Quill?"

Peter let out a small breath and stared ahead fidgeting. "Yeah. It was nothing."

Rocket slammed the glass down annoyed. "Don't give me that crap!"

"Okay!" Peter held his hands up a sad smile playing on his lips. He immediately deflated and looked down. "We were standing beside a room where a person just died. When I heard the heart monitor let out that _Beep_ I just…remembered I guess. It sounded _exactly the same_ when my mom died begging me on terra."

Rocket nodded, feeling awkward. "We're never going to the hospital that's for sure. Gamora and Drax can go there."

Peter smirked, his eyes looking clearer than they had since the trip to the hospital.

"yeah, yeah, and I'm gonna raid the whole Nova corps cafeteria."

Rocket responded by splashing the glass of water at Peter's face.

"OI! This means WAR!"

Half an hour later the two friends sat back down on the sofa, drenched from the craziest water fight in the history of water fights. Several plastic cups were thrown on the ground of the rec room. Gamora was going to _flip_. But those were details.

"Hey ranger rick?"

"Yes you git?"

The man rubbed the spot between Rockets ears, causing the humanoid to start. "Thanks buddy." And rocket knew that thanks sank much deeper that starting a water fight.

Before Rocket could even smile Peter was running into the washroom to dry up first.

Rocket snarled playfully and ran after promising the man he would pay.


End file.
